


Me, You, and Midnight Blue

by thechaoscryptid



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Getting Together, Gift Giving, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 09:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21474103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechaoscryptid/pseuds/thechaoscryptid
Summary: Keith's late birthday present comes with an unexpected side gift.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 143





	Me, You, and Midnight Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Cleaned up from [this](https://twitter.com/Aryagraceling/status/1195436952427864065?s=19) Twitter thread (where you can also see the sweatshirt)!

Keith’s home for a few weeks in November after everything, having a little downtime between Blade missions when Lance barges into his apartment with an announcement that they’re going out, no refusals. When Keith asks why, Lance shoots him a look that says _ moron _before explaining that they all missed his birthday, and there’s no guarantee they’ll be together for Christmas. “It just makes sense,” he says, and Keith sighs long and loud before getting off of the couch.

“Who’s all coming?”

“Don’t know, we invited a bunch of people.”

Keith arches a brow. “We?”

“Me and Shiro. I think Allura invited some people from off-planet, too, but I’m not sure _ who _exactly.” Lance flops into the spot Keith’s just vacated, making himself at home with the TV as Keith retreats to get something other than sweats on.

He ends up in his worn red jacket and black skinny jeans he insisted were too tight, but Pidge insisted made him look “like a tool, but a _ hot _ one.” He supposes he might as well try, for once. After all, what’s a party with no expectation of even a _ little _fun? When he walks back into the living room, Lance gives him a once-over and a low whistle.

“What?”

“You look good, man! Jeez, take a compliment, will you?”

Keith fights a smile, but lets it break across his face when Lance gets up to drag him to the door. It’s something he misses when gallivanting across the universe, the company of people he’s spent so much time with. Krolia and Kolivan are great, but the awkward Galra flirting is occasionally Too Much.

A crisp breeze blows across the parking lot as Lance hurries to the car, slamming the door and whining about the cold as he starts the vehicle. It continues on the way to the main road, and doesn’t stop until Keith asks where they’re going. “The Ambassador. Coran decided it was ‘fitting,’ with what you do and all.”

Keith snorts and brings a knuckle to his lips as he stares out at the buildings whizzing by. “Think one day he’ll wise up to the fact that I prefer the manual labor to diplomatic relations?”

“Only when he realizes that most of us Earthlings _ still _don’t know what quiznack means.”

“So you’re telling me it’s a lost cause?”

Lance claps him on the shoulder as they pull into the parking lot. “Miracles happen, buddy.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve used up my quota for my lifetime,” Keith jokes, but it falls a little flat as he sees Shiro leaning against the brick, gesturing grandle while Hunk doubles over in laughter. 

Lance notices, and Lance calls him on it. “I think he’s got something special for you,” he says. “He wouldn’t tell any of us what it is, and you know what _ that _means.”

Keith nearly chokes. _ “What?” _

“You know...I mean, Galra fuc--”

“LANCE!”

“Okay, okay!” Lance holds his hands out and slides out of the car. “I’m just saying, it’s about time you stopped whatever game you’re playing.”

“We’re not playing a game.”

Lance, once again, gives him the same look he gave him in the apartment. “You two talk about each other _ all the time. _And what about the eye-fucking in meetings?”

“Keith!”

Keith’s jaw snaps shut at Shiro’s greeting, and he shoots Lance a look of his own as Shiro starts jogging across the parking lot. “Hey, Shiro,” he says with a grin. “Sorry I didn’t end up making it over when I got in, I was just exhausted.”

Shiro tosses his arm around Keith’s shoulder and squeezes. “That’s all right. You’re here now, and hopefully a little less crabby than when you’re tired.”

Keith flushes bright red under the bright neon lights as he’s pulled from Shiro’s arm into a hug from Allura. “Oh,” she groans, her grip tightening nearly enough to steal Keith’s breath. “I can’t believe we missed your birthday! I’m sure the mission could have waited a day or two.”

“I’ve never been big into celebrating anyway,” Keith says, meeting Shiro’s eyes over her shoulder. “It was usually just me and Shiro going flying.”

Shiro leans back against the building with a smirk. “Just, Keith? I’m hurt.” He lays his hand over his heart, feigning pain until Keith works away from Allura and smacks his arm. 

“You know I always appreciated it.”

“Flying’s not the only thing he appreciates,” Lance whispers from the corner of the mouth, and suddenly Shiro’s face matches the shade of Keith’s jacket.

“Oh, yeah,” Pidge agrees. _ “Plenty _there to appreciate.”

Hunk gestures with his thumb to the door. “Sort of hate to be the one to break this weird vibe up, but I’ve got food in here that’s waiting for you guys,” he says. “Keith, made those special Altean cookies you like, and some food goo, just for old times’ sake.” 

“And there’s nunvill!” Coran says from the entrance, twirling a finger in his moustache. “Though the bartender doesn’t appreciate the way it tastes…”

“Does anyone?” Shiro murmurs into Keith’s ear, and Keith stifles a laugh as they walk inside. In typical Lance and Allura fashion, the place is packed. Keith could do without all the people he doesn’t know coming up and wishing him well, but if nothing else, he appreciates the effort. 

Shiro sticks to his side for the first hour, fetching new drinks whenever he sees Keith’s getting low. “Having fun?” he asks after watching Keith accept what he’s _ pretty _sure is the thousandth ‘happy birthday.’

Keith tips his glass into the side of Shiro’s beer. “Don’t I always when we get together?”

“Well, I like to think so,” Shiro says. “I _ am _pretty great.”

“And modest, too,” Keith teases. The warmth flooding through his veins only heightens at the way Shiro ducks his head, embarrassed. “Part of your charm.”

“So great, modest, charming--” Shiro counts on his fingers the things Keith admires about him, and that doesn’t help the heat either. “Anything else I should know about myself?”

“Hey, I thought it was _ my _night tonight.” Keith elbows him and grins at the floor, looking from the corner of his eye to see Shiro nodding.

“You’re right,” he says. “Hey, everyone!” He sets his bottle down on the table and claps, drawing everyone’s eyes before he picks it up again. His Altean hand slides down Keith’s side to grab his hip and draw him close as he raises the glass. “To Keith, the man of the hour!”

“To Keith!” Everyone cries, and Keith decides that maybe with Shiro’s hand to calm him, the attention isn’t so bad. He sinks into Shiro’s side, rubbing his face into the fabric of Shiro’s sweatshirt to hide the stupid smile he can’t stop from spreading across his face. “You forgot embarrassing,” he said. 

“Please, I feel that smile.” Shiro gives his hip a squeeze before letting him go and turning him toward where Lance is pointing his phone at them.

“I told you!” he exclaims. “Hey, Shiro, was that the present?”

“The--no, Lance, a _ hug _wasn’t the present,” Shiro says.

“How about a kiss?”

“Lance,” Allura chides from his side. “Be kind.”

Pidge walks up beside her, shoving their glasses up their nose. “Oh. Well, it’d be about time.” When Keith’s jaw drops, they shrug. “What? It’s true!”

Shiro catches his bottom lip between his teeth before taking a long drink. “I had something made for you, if it’ll ease whatever nonsense this--” he gestures to the three other paladins-- “is.”

“What is it?” Keith asks. It’s all he can do not to wrap his lips around the finger Shiro presses to his lips.

“I can’t ruin the surprise, Keith, don’t you know the rules of getting presents?”

“Don’t like rules,” Keith mumbles into the digit. “Prefer breaking them.”

“Just be good for another hour or so,” Shiro says, and suddenly Keith’s regretting wearing tight pants. He shuts his eyes and takes a shuddering breath in as Shiro takes the finger away. “Never been good at being good either, you know,” he says. “Present better be worth the effort.”

“Oh, I think you’ll appreciate it,” Shiro says. He glances down at the ground, and Keith sighs as the tension between them drops to a low simmer. “It’s perfect for you.”

Keith leans forward to whisper in his ear, the alcohol flowing through him making him sway the slightest bit as he gives into the desire to be bold. “It’s from you. Of course it’ll be perfect.”

When he pulls away, Shiro looks like he’s fixing to collapse or combust, both equally plausible. “You think so?” Shiro says, and his voice _ doesn’t _squeak. It doesn’t.

“I know so,” Keith breathes. “But I’ve got to say, if it’s _ that _ good and it’s _ my _night, I wanna know what it is.”

“Sweatshirt,” Shiro replies automatically. “It’s a, um--you know, just really simple.”

“Mm.” Keith pats into Shiro’s chest, definitely _ not _staring at the way Shiro’s throat works as he swallows hard. “Can’t wait.”

The party drags after that. ‘The next hour or so,’ Shiro says, like an hour is the easiest possible amount of time to wait for something Keith’s very much looking forward to. The music beats through his head, his body, his heart as he watches from the side of the dancefloor as Shiro’s drawn into the mess of bodies by Allura. Lance plants himself firmly in the booth next to him to watch as well. 

“You two looked like you were having fun,” he says--more yells--over the music. “Make a move, man!”

Keith shakes his head.

“I’m going to do it for you one of these days, then.”

“No!” Keith yelps, grabbing Lance’s arm as he makes to get up and go. “Don’t you dare.” He sticks a finger in Lance’s face and tries to keep his own straight. “I can do it myself.”

“Oh?”

“When I want.”

“Which is?”

Keith flushes again. “Soon.”

Lance and Pidge and Hunk all take turns distracting him until he watches Shiro break from the crowd to wind his way toward their booth. “Dance with me,” he says breathlessly, and Keith shakes his head. 

“Take me outside and I might,” he says. “Away from the people I’d be endangering.”

“Aw, come o--”

“Take him outside, Shiro!” Lance yells. “Are you blind?!?”

Before Shiro can be shocked, Keith’s up and pushing him toward the door. He snickers at the way Shiro nearly trips on the stoop, steadies him with wandering hands and presses him up against the brick. Breath catches in Shiro’s chest as he realizes the position he’s in, Keith staring up at him like he’s all the stars in the sky. “Thanks,” he whispers, licking his lips. “You saved me. Again.”

“I want my present,” Keith says, and Shiro gulps when he walks his fingers up his chest. “Please?”

“It’s in my truck,” Shiro says. “That way.” When he points over Keith’s shoulder, Keith purses his lips as he searches the lot.

“Where?”  
Shiro’s hand is warm, so warm on his shoulder as he turns around and pushes him gently forward. He doesn’t let go until Keith lights up when he recognizes the vehicle and darts forward to lean up against the glossy black paint. He’d teased Shiro about it when he first saw it, about how much it reminded him of the lion’s paint.

Leaning up against it makes him remember how many times over the years he’d considered how it would feel to be leaned up against Black instead.

Shiro fumbles with his keys until finally the door cracks open and Keith’s got a clumsily wrapped package in his hands. When he rips it open (he’s never been good at waiting patiently), midnight blue unfurls in his hands. “Read it,” Shiro urges.

“Big fan of space, both outer and personal,” Keith says as he holds it aloft. “You’re right, it’s perfect.” He clasps it to his chest, then, hands just under his chin as his cheeks lift in a smile. “Except for one thing.”

“Oh?” Shiro breathes, leaning in close. “What’s that?”

“I’d let you invade my personal space anytime, Shiro.”

“Would you?” Shiro asks, and it’s so soft that Keith _ sees _more than hears it over the thundering of his heart. 

“Yeah.” Keith leans forward to close the space between them, not even an inch between them as he noses into Shiro’s cheek. “If that’s something you want.”

Shiro’s lips are on his then, in place of words as his hands cup Keith’s face and tilt it to deepen the kiss. “Fuck, Keith, took you long enough,” he whispers.

“Me?” Keith asks, incredulity freezing his actions. When Shiro pulls back, confused, Keith’s mouth drops open. “Me??”

“You, yeah!” Shiro says, shaking Keith just the slightest bit. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that ever since you rescued me the first time on Earth.” A beaming smile spreads across his face before he dives in again. ‘It was worth it.”

“Shiro,” Keith protests, planting both hands on Shiro’s chest. “It’s been longer than that for me! The _ hell _do you mean it’s ‘about time’?”

“You-I-we…” Shiro trails off, and Keith can see the gears turning as he processes years’ worth of unnecessary holding himself back. He doesn’t make it very far before his hands fist in Keith’s hair and he leans in, the hard length of his body doing nothing to ease the ache that’s been building in Keith since the moment he jumped out of Lance’s car. 

“Enough waiting,” Keith growls. “Get in the car, we’re ditching.”

“Fine, fine,” Shiro says. He whines when Keith breaks away, but gets in the truck and pulls Keith to him again after locking the doors. 

“At home, Shiro, come on. _ Drive.” _

If riding here with Lance took an eternity, Keith doesn't even know how to begin describing the trip back with Shiro. Eons doesn't seem like quite the right word, not when time ceases to exist at the feeling of Shiro's fingers tugging his thighs apart. 

Then, as they pull up to a red light in the middle of an abandoned street, those fingers skim over Keith's confined cock and he _ swears _ to any and all gods listening that he'll do what it takes to feel it again. His hips press up, entire body straining at the seatbelt as his hands curl on the seats. "Come on, come on," he urges, not even a full second after the light turns green.

He's not going to bother with propriety, not after waiting for this moment forever.

Shiro pulls his hand away to navigate through the back streets and into his parking lot, his breath just as ragged as Keith's as he puts the vehicle in park and all but flies out the door.

Keith's on him in the next second. The familiar route up to Shiro's place becomes a labyrinth in the dark, both stumbling as hands scrabble for purchase on the walls, doors, each other. "Fuck," Shiro curses again as his keys fall to the floor.

"If you insist." Keith pushes him out of the way and opens it himself, dragging Shiro in only to bracket him against the wall. "Where?" he purrs, and Shiro points to where his bedroom door's open. 

"I'd take anywhere, though," Shiro says, and Keith's grin is positively wicked as an idea hatches.

"Anywhere works for me." Shiro’s pulse thrums steady through his neck as Keith lays an open-mouthed kiss over the delicate skin. His fingers fiddle with the buckle of Shiro’s belt, and he drags his lips up until he’s whispering in Shiro’s ear. “How ‘bout here, Shiro? I want to get my mouth on you.”

Shiro whines then, a low, breathy sound that cuts off with a groan when Keith flips open the button on his pants. He nods, and Keith grins into the underside of his jaw as his fingers splay over the black fabric of Shiro’s underwear. His hands press against the wall and for a second, Keith’s worried the Altean one will leave dents.

It’ll probably be fine regardless--Shiro’s always been able to get himself out of trouble.

“Fuck, you’re thick,” Keith whispers. “You’ve been holding out on me, Shiro, no fair.” He pulls back, a mocking pout on his face as he rests the tips of his fingers on the wet spot by the head of Shiro’s cock. “Best present.”

“Thanks, it’s all yours.”

“Good.” Keith mouths down to Shiro’s collarbone, nudging his shirt aside to bite gently before squatting and dragging Shiro’s jeans down his hips. His fingers curl in the elastic around Shiro’s waist and when he looks up, he sees Shiro wild-eyed and slack-jawed as his human hand twitches toward Keith’s hair. “You can touch me,” he says. “I won’t bite.”

“No?”

“Well…” Keith nips at the line of Shiro’s hip. “Maybe.”

“If I ask nicely, I guess,” Shiro says. His fingers wind into Keith’s hair, tugging his head back and to the side as his hips press forward. The metal of his other thumb is cool on Keith’s lip as it swipes across. His eyes flutter shut when Keith seals his mouth around it. “Ah~”

Keith presses his tongue against it before pulling off with an exaggerated pop. He slides his hands around to pull Shiro closer, digging into the firm muscle of his ass as he noses into the coarse hair at Shiro’s base. “You can do better than that,” he murmurs. “Come on, Shiro, you want it?”

“God yes,” Shiro groans. He rolls his hips once, twice against Keith’s face before guiding himself into Keith’s still-parted lips. “I nee--oh, _ shit.” _He hisses as Keith hollows his cheeks and takes him deep with no warning. 

Shiro’s hot and hard on his tongue, every inch of him making Keith’s jaw ache with the stretch. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath as he pulls off, lips skirting up as he wraps his tongue around the length and slides a heated hand under Shiro’s shirt. He feels along the lines of Shiro’s Garrison-forged body like it’s the only thing he’s ever going to need again (though Shiro’s dick wouldn’t be a half-bad compromise), and Shiro’s sigh is _ ethereal, _ nearly disappearing into the dark recesses of the hallway as he grinds forward. “You’re so hot,” he says. “Like you’re _ burning.” _

“Galra blood,” Keith mumbles around him. “Just imagine--” he wraps a hand around Shiro and strokes, slow and steady as he mouths over warm skin. “I’m sure it feels just as good when you’re all the way inside me.”

Shiro doesn’t get the chance to think before Keith’s on him again with the intent to make him forget his name, his inhibitions, and his sense of decency. He ims to make this the filthiest head Shiro’s ever gotten and by the way Shiro’s beginning to lose himself in the rocking back and forth, back and forth, he’s doing a damn good job. 

“Baby,” falls from his lips like a prayer, Keith’s name following close behind. “God, _ god…” _ His grip tightens until he’s guiding Keith up and then it’s _ him _ pressing _ Keith _against the wall and making him want like he’s never wanted before. “Bed. Now.”

When Keith ducks out from under his arms, he finds himself pulled back by the floating metal of Shiro’s arm. “Hey!” he protests, but there’s nothing to it as he falls back into Shiro’s chest. “All right, lead me, Shiro.”

“So good,” Shiro says, the words muffled in Keith’s hair as they stumble forward together. “Pretty down there on my cock.”

“Am I, now?”  
“Always been so fuckin’ cute. Hot. Shit.” He lets Keith go and skitters to the bed on one foot, trying in vain to kick his pants away. 

“Hey, let me,” Keith says. “Lay--” he’s nearly caught by one of Shiro’s feet and presses it down, laughing-- “Lay down, come on. Unless you wanna fuck me with--”

“With what?” Shiro whines when he pulls away. 

Keith’s mouth quirks up. “Wait here. I’m gonna go get the-the--” He can’t quite find the word, but gestures to his arms. “The thing.”

“Ohh,” Shiro says, eyes widening. “Yeah, yeah. Break it in.”

Keith points from his head to Shiro’s before he turns from the door and starts shedding clothes in the hall on his way to find the sweatshirt he dropped. When he finds it and tugs it on, he finds it smells like Shiro--warm and earthy and clean. He pulls the sleeves over his hands and brings it to his face.

Shiro’s got a ridiculous smile on when Keiths steps back into his room, flesh hand curled around his cock and stroking slowly. Keith makes a show of it, pulling the front down over his quite obvious arousal. He hides the bottom half of his face behind a sleeve, and Shiro reaches for him with both hands. “C’mere,” he says. “Need you.”

Keith dances over and clambers onto the mattress, kneeling over Shiro with both hands on his chest as he rolls their hips together. “Goddamn, Shiro, you’re gonna wreck me,” he breathes. “Can’t fucking wait.”

He slides his hands through Shiro’s hair and drags him into a rough kiss, all passion and heat and insistence as Shiro fumbles around the other side of the bed before producing a bottle of lube. It’s half gone and Keith snickers, then moans as he thinks about exactly what Shiro’s done with the rest. 

“What, baby?”

“Think of me when you’re using this?” Keith asks, snatching the bottle and flicking it open with a sideways glance to where Shiro’s breathing hard. “Hmm?”  
“Wha-a-ah--” Shiro looks lost, his eyes tracking Keith’s movement as he brings his hand behind them. “Um, what does it matter?”

“How did you think of fucking me, Shiro?” Keith’s lips drop open as he presses the pad of a finger against himself, the rest brushing against the head of Shiro’s cock. “I want to know.”

“Hard,” Shiro says suddenly, and his hands tighten on Keith’s waist for a split second. “So hard, Keith, just want to...nnm.” He lets go to skim over Keith’s thighs, up and down before he pushes the waist of the sweatshirt up to get a look at him. “Sometimes I don’t even wait until you’re naked, get you out of your Blade uniform just enough to get in here.”

Keith pitches forward to rest on an elbow as Shiro’s fingers tease along his rim. “Did you like it?” he murmurs. “Was I so good for you?” He gasps when Shiro’s mouth latches onto the junction of his shoulder. “Do you think about me being good for you?”

Shiro nods silently, hand retreating before it’s back and slick and he’s pushing two fingers into Keith. “All the time, baby.”

Keith shudders.

“You like that?” Shiro asks. _ “Baby?” _

“Fuck yeah,” Keith grinds out. He doesn’t know exactly how to articulate that’s the _ only _thing he wants to hear now, other than maybe ‘fuck me’ or ‘I love you, Keith.’

Not a time to get too far ahead of himself.

“You weren’t kidding about feeling good inside,” Shiro says. “Fucking fantastic~”

Keith keens into the pillow when Shiro works a third finger in, and he reaches back with his slicked hand to run it over Shiro’s cock. Just to make Shiro feel good, he says, _ definitely _ not to ground him against the way Shiro’s fingers unerringly find his prostate to bring the tension in him to a violent bolt of need. He bites down on the sweatshirt sleeve to muffle the sound--he’s not sure the neighbors will appreciate the way he wants to scream--and rocks back onto shiro’s hand. “Good,” he says. “Good, good, good,” and it all slurs into one word as Shiro wraps a hand around him. _ “Fuck!” _

“Keith,” Shiro breathes. “I wanna fuck you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Keith tucks his hips forward and rolls over, dragging Shiro on top of him (though it’s no small effort, even with his strength). “Do it.”

Shiro leans forward, hitching Keith’s knee over his arm and nearly bending him in half as he catches Keith’s bottom lip between his. “You asked for it, baby,” he whispers. “Properly invading your personal space and I’m gonna do you so good.”

Keith _ wants _to laugh, he really does, but he only gets halfway there before Shiro’s lined up and pressing into him so slow, so careful that Keith’s pretty sure he’s dying. A thin, reedy whine escapes him instead of words, and as Shiro grins down, that ‘pretty sure’ becomes an ‘absolutely is.’

He knows with absolute certainty that he’s going to die tonight or at the very least, come so hard he sees one of the gods he doesn’t believe in.

Shiro’s head droops low between his shoulders, brow knitting as he hilts in Keith. Stars are born and destroyed in the seconds they sit there, breathing through the adjustment, and then Shiro’s eyes turn to Keith’s. They roam over his face, searching for any sigh that Keith’s anything but comfortable. “Good?”  
“Yeah,” Keith croaks. He lifts his hips, just an inch, and is rewarded with a choked groan from Shiro, as well as his arm tightening around Keith’s leg. “Fuck me like you mean it, baby.”

Shiro grunts out something Keith thinks is assent, grinding forward for a beat before he pulls out. It’s a second of being absolutely hollow, Keith’s soul taken and discarded until Shiro slides back home. His Altean hand comes around to cradle Keith’s head, and then he commences to take Keith apart piece by piece. It’s just as hard as it is loving, Shiro pulling Keith’s hands from his mouth and insisting he wants to hear the way Keith loves how much he’s being fucked.

“So--much,” Keith says. “God, Shiro, _ harder.” _

_ “Keith.” _

Keith adores the way his name falls from Shiro’s mouth, the way it sounds over the wet noise of their skin slapping together. Neighbor’s feelings completely discarded, he cries Shiro’s name again as he wraps a hand around himself. “C’mon,” he pants. “Come-come on, _ ha~” _

Shiro lets his leg go to slide both arms up around Keith’s shoulders, and Keith plants his heels on the mattress to meet his thrusts. The headboard bangs into the wall with what’s probably enough force to damage it, but Keith doesn’t care because he’s coming then, in long, thick stripes that stain the midnight fabric draped over his chest. He’s halfway to complaining about overstimulation before Shiro stills as well, shuddering as he spills into Keith. “Keith,” he whispers, and this time it’s less urgency and more adoration as Keith throws his arms around him. “Keith, baby…”

Keith smiles fondly as he nudges into Shiro’s neck. “Shiro, baby,” he parrots. “You’re great, but you’re crushing me.”

With a soft chuckle, Shiro slides off and faceplants into the pillow next to him. “Better?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to die in your bed by asphyxiation,” Keith teases, turning over and tossing a leg over Shiro’s lower back. “You…” He walks his fingertips up Shiro’s spine and kisses his shoulder. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d fuck me good.”

“Mhmm.”

Shiro’s undercut picks at Keith’s palm as he slides his hand up to massage softly at the nape of his neck. His heartbeat begins to quiet, and the room is blanketed in nothing but silence and the heat between them. “So good,” Keith repeats. He slots himself just enough under Shiro’s side that he’s covered, not crushed, and fits his forehead into the hollow of his shoulder. “Perfect.”

Shiro mumbles something into the pillow.

“What?”

“You should wash off that sweatshirt,” Shiro says, and Keith spies a grin on the sliver of Shiro’s face he can see. “Wouldn’t want to totally ruin it before you got to wear it out.”

“Kicking me out of bed already?” Keith murmurs. 

“Making sure my bed stays  _ somewhat  _ clean so you can sleep in it tonight.” Shiro turns his head to stare directly at Keith, and the way his eyes search Keith’s face like he’s going to say anything but  _ yes  _ makes Keith want to kiss away any doubt, so he does. He does, and Shiro’s metal fingers wind into his hair to pull him closer. “Say yes,” he says. “Please?”

Keith kisses him again, noses brushing against each other as he smiles. “Of course, Shiro,” he whispers. “Any night you want me to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments always read and _very_ much appreciated, and I always do my best to get back to them ❤️
> 
> You can also find me lurking and yelling about fictional characters on:  
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